Conscience
by 01100101
Summary: Everyone is presented with a single chance for redemption. Would you accept it, even from the hands of one you've sworn to hate? Drarry angst. Book 6 AU where Draco makes decent decisions.
1. Chapter 1

"No charge, dear. Tab's already been paid for," said the barmaid. She took Harry's empty mug and started wiping at it with a damp rag.

"Really?" Harry and the Weasleys had been at the Three Broomsticks all night and had acquired quite a tab. In fact, Harry had drunk so much Butterbeer that, weak as it was, he thought it might be starting to affect him. The glasses hanging from the racks above the bar swam ever so slightly before his eyes. "By who?"

"Couldn't say. Didn't recognize him."

"What did he look like?" Harry pressed. The barmaid shrugged and gestured vaguely to her own head.

"Blonde." Harry narrowed his eyes. That was the second nice thing Malfoy had done for him this month. Really, it was making Harry a bit nervous, since the only reason Malfoy was ever nice was if he wanted something from someone. But if he was trying to get on Harry's good side, why anonymously pay a bar tab? It would be more like him to throw a handful of galleons on the table in front of Harry and show off his wealth the way he usually did. The cryptic nature of this favor had caught Harry completely off guard.

Just then, his thoughts were interrupted by two warbling, off-tune voices piercing the din of bar chatter. Fred and George were standing on two stools, giving a rousing rendition of God Save the Queen with a few nasty lyric changes. Ron, who appeared to have been trying to talk to a pretty waitress, was flushed with embarrassment. Half of the bar was letting out hollers of amusement, while the other half didn't seem so appreciative. In the end, the latter half won out and Harry, Ron, Fred and George found themselves on the dark streets of Hogsmede.

"No sense of humor these days," said Fred, somberly.

"That wasn't even the really nasty version either," said George, elbowing Harry in the side. "Hey, what did our drinks cost? We'll pay you back."

"I don't know," Harry admitted. "Someone got to the tab before I could."

"Someone paid for all our drinks?" said Ron. "Why the hell would anyone do that?"

"Someone liked our song after all!" said Fred gleefully. "Maybe if they're lucky, we'll perform an encore next time!" The twins laughed and began singing the nastier version of the lyrics, tromping through the street on the way back to the castle.

Harry and Ron lingered behind, talking about homework and Ravenclaw's new keeper and nothing of any real importance. Harry had been incredibly relieved that no one had asked him any further questions about who might have paid for their drinks. No one would have understood why he was so certain it was Malfoy, when the only thing he knew was that the man was blonde. No one else had witnessed the subtle change in Malfoy's attitude towards Harry during the past year or so, and he could not possibly explain how he felt it had started even before that. _Third year, falling 50 feet off his broom and spending several days flickering in and out of conciseness in the hospital wing, waking up once to very blue eyes and drifting off again almost immediately. Fourth year, almost being caught in the restricted section of the library at 2 in the morning and hearing a very familiar voice yelling down the hall, distracting Filch and keeping Harry safe. Fifth year, walking out of the Room of Requirement and nearly into Snape, but watching Malfoy step out of the shadows and claim there was a brawl in the Slytherin common room, catching Harry's gaze and holding it for just a moment as he led Snape away down the hall._ Little things like this had happened for several years but lately, Malfoy had been laying it on a little thick. Even Ron had noticed when yesterday in potions, Malfoy turned around in his chair and told Harry in a genuine tone that the reason his divinity serum wasn't purple like it should be was because he hadn't added enough mugwort.

"What the hell'd he say that for? He doesn't help people." Harry thought he could see the back of Malfoy's pale neck flush a bit.

"I dunnno…" Harry mumbled, skimming the ingredients page.

"Probly trying to get us to mess up even more than we already have…" But as Harry added one more teaspoon of mugwort to the caldron, it sizzled for a moment and then turned a brilliant shade of violet.

"Bloody…" whispered Ron, staring at the serum. After class, Hermione had caught up with them and asked what Malfoy had said. Ron could still hardly contain his disbelief, but Hermione was slightly less surprised. Harry had wondered if she noticed the change too.

Now, as he and Ron entered the Gryfindor common room, they saw Hermione sitting at a desk by the fireplace, pouring over a long scroll of parchment. She had elected to study instead of going to the Three Broomsticks with them.

"You know, N.E.W.T.s aren't until next year," said Ron as they approached her table.

"I know _that_ ," she said with a grimace. "But you do realize that whether or not you're even qualified to take the N.E.W.T.s is determined by how well you do in your last two years? And this essay that Mr. Slughorn assigned is worth 25% of your total grade?"

"Oh, come off it," said Ron, though he fidgeted nervously in a way that let Harry know he had forgotten about the essay entirely. "Hey, someone paid for all our drinks tonight at the Three Broomsticks!" Hermione cocked an eyebrow.

"Who?"

"No one knows. They just did it and left. Pretty cool." Hermione raised both eyebrows and looked at Harry. He looked away.

"Hmm. That's nice. And you must have drank a lot too," she said, sniffing the air. "I can smell it on both of you!" Everyone laughed and the subject was changed but Harry didn't want to talk about how much they couldn't believe that Snape was finally the Defense against the Dark Arts teacher. All he wanted to do was go to sleep and forget about any weird happenings. He excused himself for the night and made his way to the boys' dormitory. He lay on his bed for a moment, watching the canopy above his head twist in front of his drunken eyes and before he could stop himself, he fell asleep with his clothes on.


	2. Chapter 2

The next few days passed with Harry thinking very little of the incident at the Three Broomsticks. In fact, school was so boring he found himself unable to think of much of anything at all. Classes that were usually so interesting were full of essays this week. Even Apparition class, the one Harry had been most excited to take this year, was a complete snore. Mainly because Harry and Ron were unable to move themselves even the slightest distance. Hermione, however was popping in and out of existence as though she'd been doing it for years. She probably had been, thought Harry. She had no reservations about breaking the rules where advanced learning was involved.

"Just remember to focus on the three Ds, are you doing that?" she asked them. "Destination, determination, deliber-"

"We know, we got it," said Ron testily. He planted his feet firmly on the ground, scrunched up his face and turned on the spot, but stumbled a bit. There was a tiny popping sound but Ron didn't move an inch. However, when the smoke cleared, his left eyebrow was only half there. Harry and Hermione both let loose riotous laughter that called the attention of Twycross, the Ministry of Magic official who was serving as their instructor. After nearly ten minutes of trying to retrieve Ron's eyebrow, Twycross admitted that it was probably gone, and that Ron would just have to be patient and grow it back. Class ended and the group of Gryffindors filed into the hall.

"What do you have next, Hermione?" asked Ron. Harry and he were both headed to Ghoul Studies, but Hermione had chosen more difficult electives, as usual.

"Alchemy," she said, fussing in her bag for a book. "I'm so glad they had enough of a student demand to bring it back this year, because it's really quite interesting-" Peals of obnoxious laughter cut through Hermione's words.

"Oh, look! Weasley must have just come from Apparition Class! Where's your other eyebrow, Ronny? Couldn't you find it?" Pansy Parkison, a tall, pug-faced girl was calling to them from a group of Slytherins.

"C'mere!" called a boy, raising his wand. "I can fix it for you!" Harry's eyes swept the group quickly and found a face he was looking for. Malfoy was leaning against a doorway with a smirk on his face, but remained silent. His skin looked more sallow than usual, like maybe he'd been sick.

"Fuck off, the lot of you…" muttered Ron under his breath. They scooted past the crowd and on towards the West Wing. As Harry passed him, Malfoy inclined his head slightly.

"Potter." His eyes were glaring and his arms were crossed, but his voice contained none of the venom that it usually did in the presence of his friends.

The next few classes passed slowly. Ghoul Studies was taught by a spirit who claimed to be a reformed poltergeist, but sometimes as he floated down the rows of desks, a student's books would go flying into the air and land on someone's head. He would always laugh nervously and mutter something about old habits.

After two hours of a droning speech on indicators of paranormal activity, the entire class had fallen asleep.

"I wish I could apparate about right now," said Ron in a low voice. Eventually, the professor sat down his heavy book with a thud.

"That's it for today, class." Harry's quill levitated into the air and began poking him in the forehead. "I hope you haven't lost your permission slips for tomorrow's lesson!" Harry grimaced and snatched the quill out of the air. They were all supposed to go to the Wailing Waters at Wimbledon, a rural lake east of London, and observe the spirits that haunted it, but Harry couldn't go. The Dursley's hadn't signed the slip and in fact, he hadn't even asked them. Harry wasn't sure whether the trip would have been fun or not, but at least it would have been something to do. Now with Ron on the field trip and Hermione in class, it looked as though he would be spending most of the afternoon alone in his dorm. Harry sighed, gathered his books and headed towards the door.


	3. Chapter 3

"I'm sorry mate. It's gonna be so boring though…" Ron said, throwing his bag over his shoulder. "You're not missing out."

"I know," said Harry. He was lying on his stomach, watching the first years complete a flying lesson through the window near his bed. "I'll figure out something to do." He thought of Quidditch and imagined he'd practice a little by himself, since he had all day. The season didn't start for another month, but the team had been practicing since the beginning of the school year. As the newly elected captain, Harry wanted to prove himself by making sure they were going to beat the pants off of Slytherin.

"Alright, have fun." Ron said, rolling his eyes. "I'm sure I won't."

...

Harry released and retrieved the snitch for two hours in the empty Quidditch field. He had missed this. Oh, practice with the team was fun and certainly helpful, but there was something about having the field completely to himself that he liked. No one was asking him questions or forcing his mind to stay in the game; he was free to let his thoughts wander. No one was watching his every move. Harry turned his broom upwards, spurring it higher and higher into the sky, climbing until he began to feel the air thin in his lungs, then relaxed and let himself fall. Correcting his posture, he shot like a bullet towards a single point on the ground, only pulling out of the dive when he was close enough to skim the grass with his feet. He did it again and again until he was completely winded and had to admit to himself that it was time to stop.

Sweat dripping into his eyes, Harry stretched the tightness out of his muscles and picked up his broom. He began dragging the Quidditch chest and his own tired body off of the field when he heard someone clapping. It echoed around the stadium, making it impossible to determine the direction from which it originated. He scanned the rows of seats and finally made out a pale figure sitting in the Headmaster's chair in the teacher's section. With a crack, the figure disappeared. _Of fucking course he can apparate._ Harry heard another crack to his right and turned to see him lounging 15 feet away in the grass. His shoulders were slumped, his head tipped back and his legs sprawled out, making him look for all the world like a giant cat lazily sunbathing.

"That was some _fancy broomwork_ ," Malfoy said with exaggeration. " _I_ wouldn't be surprised if they make you _team captain_ next year!"

"Thanks," Harry grunted, struggling with the chest. "Always nice to meet a fan." Malfoy laughed.

"I wouldn't call myself a fan. More of a scout. Wanted to make sure Slytherin doesn't have any competition for the House Cup this year." He smoothed his hair back from his face with one white hand. "We don't." For some reason, Harry was vividly aware of the beads of perspiration collecting on his back.

"Thank you for your constructive criticism." Harry started to turn back towards the castle but stopped. "And thanks for the drinks."

Inside, Harry was terrified. If he were wrong, think of the verbal thrashing he would receive from the Slytherins now. _Harry! Harry! Did you_ actually _think that Draco bought you drinks at the Three Broomsticks? Ooooooooh how_ _ro_ man _tic!_ But all he showed to Malfoy was a smirk. Malfoy's eyes narrowed.

"I don't know what you're talking about." But his face was less pale than usual.

"I saw you, Malfoy," Harry lied. "I'm not that stupid." Malfoy's face was definitely pink now. He jumped to his feet and strode the wide distance between them in three steps, shoving his face into Harry's.

" _You shut your fucking mouth Potter, do you hear me?_ " Spit flew from his mouth and he stabbed his finger into Harry's chest so forcefully that he almost took a step back. "You just keep your _fucking_ mouth shut if you know what's good for you." He stopped, breathing hard, eyes wide, but kept his face close to Harry's. He seemed to be waiting for a response.

"I'm…sorry…it's not…a big deal?" He had no idea what to say. Apparently it had been an unspoken rule all these years never to mention Malfoy's favors and today Harry had broken it. "Really, I mean, I'm not going to tell anyone…" But he was only making Malfoy angrier.

"I'll fucking kill- I'll fucking-" He seemed unable to think of something bad enough to threaten Harry with. His fists kept clinching and unclenching and for a moment Harry thought he might be hit, but Malfoy took a step back, turned on the spot, and with a deafening crack, disapparated.

…

Three weeks passed and Harry hardly saw Malfoy at all. In fact, Harry was sure he was being avoided. Malfoy had taken to eating on the far end of the Slytherin table, putting as much distance as possible between them. He no longer ran into Harry in the halls and the few classes Gryffindor and Slytherin had together, Malfoy seemed to be missing. Even Ron and Hermione commented that Malfoy was making himself scarce these days. Harry should have been glad but he wasn't. The distance only made him more curious as to what Malfoy's motivations were. Maybe he could get him alone sometime, corner him after lunch and…no that's…that sounds…uh, no. He just needed to wait until their next class together. However Malfoy was skipping all these lessons, his excuse wouldn't last much longer.

Herbology started out as usual. Everyone filed into the greenhouse, Gryffindors on one side of the table and Slytherins on the other with some tension. Harry craned his neck and spotted a white-blonde head several students away. _Finally._

"Okay students," Professor Sprout said. "Grab a pair of gloves and a partner you'd trust with _your life._ We're going to be harvesting Snargaluff pods." Harry and Ron both lunged at Hermione at the very same time and spent several minutes silently fighting over who should get her as a partner. In the end, Ron won and Harry was stuck with Neville Longbottom. While Harry certainly liked Neville, he wasn't Harry's first choice if he were picking a friend to entrust his life to. Neville seemed to realize this.

"Sorry," he whispered, smiling sheepishly.

"Oh, come off it," Harry said with a grin. "We'll be fine." Twenty minutes later, he wasn't so sure.

Harvesting a Stargaluff required taming its many thorned vines and reaching into its stump-like body to retrieve glowing, acid-secreting pods. These were then broken apart with the utmost delicacy and the green tubers inside were extracted.

"You'll need a pair of pliers to extract the pods and keep them from burning off your skin." She opened a large sack and set it on a table at the front of the class. "Come, come, one per person." Immediately, everyone rushed the table, trying to get the best pairs of pliers before all that was left were the short, stumpy ones that caused most people to get burned. Harry pushed and elbowed his way through the crowd until he was right beside Malfoy. Harry grabbed his wrist roughly. Malfoy turned to see him and grimaced.

 _"_ _What the hell are you doing, Potter?"_ he hissed under his breath. He tried to pull his arm away, but he seemed weak and Harry thought he looked thinner than usual.

"You're going to tell me what your problem is."

"Why should I?" Malfoy's eyes were thin slits of rage, his mouth twisted into a grotesque shape. Harry squeezed his wrist again.

"Because I swear to god Malfoy, I'll stand right here and won't let you go and when the crowd is gone, we'll be left up here holding hands. Wouldn't that be embarrassing?"

"I-" Malfoy's eyes danced around from person to person, looking to see if anyone had noticed, his voice higher than usual and on the verge of panic. "I can't. Won't. Fuck off." He tried to jerk his arm away again but realized he couldn't without calling attention to himself.

"We're just gonna stand here then," said Harry with a shrug. The crowd was dwindling rapidly. Someone would probably notice them soon. Malfoy's face went from pale to pink with anger.

" _Fine Potter, fine._ What do you want from me? I'll tell you later, some other time if you care so damn much. But for now, _stay the hell away from me."_ He jerked his arm away, still weakly, but this time Harry let him go, grabbing some pliers and returning to his seat. It hadn't been exactly what he was hoping for, but it was something. At least he'd been given the opportunity to find out later.

"Oh…" Neville said disappointedly, looking at Harry's pliers. Harry looked down and realized he'd gotten two short ones.


	4. Chapter 4

Weeks passed with no indication from Malfoy that he ever intended to make good on his word. At first, it annoyed Harry and he spent his time between classes walking the halls, hoping to run into him. But gradually, it bothered him less and less. Quidditch season had started and they'd already put away their first two games rather solidly, with at least a 200 point lead. Classes were a bit more interesting now and Harry's schedule was usually so full that he had little free time. But if Harry's schedule was bad, Hermione's was worse.

"I've got to go," she said, wolfing down her breakfast and grabbing her bag. "I have fifteen minutes before Advanced Arithmancy starts and I want to reread my essay before I hand it in."

"Don't you mean re-reread it?" Harry asked with a laugh.

"Re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-" Ron droned. Hermione hit him with her bag.

"Oh, hush. I can't help it if you both content yourselves with Cs." She took one last drink of milk and swept out of the Great Hall. Ron leaned over the table and picked at her bacon for a slice he liked.

"D'you think Malfoy's dead?"

" _What?"_ Harry asked sharply. His heart stopped. "Did something happen?" Ron gave him a strange look.

"No…just haven't seen him in ages is all." He gestured around the Great Hall to the Slytherin table. No Malfoy. "Used to be him and his cronies couldn't go a day without harassing us, but musta been a month since we ran into him last." He shrugged and pulled some more bacon off of Hermione's plate. "Maybe he's mellowed out a bit."

"Oh. Yeah, maybe." It had been such a long time since Harry had heard that name or even thought about Malfoy at all. Thinking about him now, made Harry feel a little sick; he could feel it in the pit of his stomach. All he wanted was ten minutes alone to talk. Maybe he should ask a Slytherin? No, that was ridiculous. He couldn't be seen asking around for Malfoy, wondering if he were alright. Wait, was that what he wanted to see him for? To make sure he was alright? _I mean, he_ has _looked awfully sick,_ thought Harry _. And he hasn't been much of an asshole to me lately, so there's really no reason to hold onto childish grudges. There's nothing weird about wondering if a classmate is alright, even if he is a Slytherin._

The only thing he could think to do was ask Hermione if she'd seen Malfoy lately. He excused himself from Ron, saying he'd see him in potions, and made his way to the library where he was sure Hermione would be spending her precious minutes before class. He was rehearsing ways he could casually bring up the subject of Malfoy, when he entered the library and came upon a scene. Hermione and Millicent Bullstrode, a Slytherin who looked burlier than some wrestlers, were practically at each other's throats and the librarian, for whatever reason, was gone. Hermione's face was contorted into one of fury, but Harry saw tears brimming in her eyes.

"Oh are you gonna cry? Because I called you a mudblood? Or is it because I said you're just as much of a disgrace to the wizarding world as your boyfriend Weasley and his family?" Hermione's lip quivered with every word Millicent said, but so did her fists and Harry knew if he didn't say something quick, Hermione was about to get her first detention for breaking a Slytherin's nose.

"Fuck off, Millicent," Harry said from the doorway.

"Ooooh, I knew you'd come, Potter. Can't resist a muggle in distress, can you?" Millicent batted her eyes. "Does Ron ever get jealous at how much you two probably fuck behind his-"

"Shut up, Millicent." Malfoy had been sitting in the corner watching the spectacle. He was lounging sideways in a large chair, a book lying open on his chest. He looked terrible. Though the robes covered most of his body, Harry could see that his wrists and cheekbones were extremely prominent, almost skeletal. There were purple circles under his eyes, which seemed cloudy and unfocused- as though he hadn't slept well in days. You would never guess it by the sound of his voice though, which was the same lazily authoritative tone that Harry had known for years. He spoke as though the idea that someone would disobey him had never crossed his mind before.

Millicent seemed shocked, then suspicious. Malfoy had never told her to shut up before and had _never_ come to the defense of anyone like Potter. She narrowed her eyes like she might challenge his authority.

"I swear to Merlin, your voice is like a banshee. I think my ears are bleeding," he went on cruelly, holding her gaze with his cool eyes. "I'm trying to read a book." Millicent's mouth fell open.

"I-"

"Have you ever read a book, Millicent?" He picked the book up and showed its contents to her. "Let me explain. It's a recreational activity that most prefer silence to accomplish. So kindly shut up." He held Millicent's gaze until it faltered and she looked away. Mumbling something about class, she picked up her bookbag and left the library, glaring daggers at Harry and Hermione. Hermione smoothed her hair back from her face and took a deep breath. She was still shaking a bit and Harry put his hands on her shoulders to steady her.

"You alright?" he asked. She smiled and laughed giddily.

"Yeah. Thanks. Ooh, I really thought I was going to hit her though!"

"I did too," Harry laughed.

"And as much as I hate to admit it…" Hermione grimaced. "I have to go to class too. Same one, actually. Millicent will be giving me dirty looks the entire period." She gathered up her books, told Harry she'd see him at lunch, and left. Harry continued to stand for a while beside the table she'd been studying at, staring off into space. Then he looked up and met Malfoy's eyes. He was considering Harry intensely and didn't look away, even when Harry met his gaze. Harry wondered whether or not he should confront him. It seemed as though he wanted him to. Just as he'd decided he would, Malfoy rose fluidly from the chair and crossed over to him.

"Here." The large book he'd been reading dropped to the table with a smack that resonated throughout the room. "You look like you could do with some light reading." His shoulder softly brushed against Harry's as he walked past him and exited the library. Harry felt his neck and face grow hot. _That was…that was kind of…_ Harry didn't know exactly. Weird, he supposed. Out of character for Malfoy, even as of lately. He shook it off and picked up the book Malfoy had dropped. It was _A History of Hogwarts_. Harry turned it over and read the back. It seemed boring; not anything Malfoy would find entertaining. A piece of paper held Malfoy's place and Harry opened the book to see what he'd been reading about. It was a chapter on the history of the Great Lake of Hogwarts and how the giant squid came to live there, which was something that Harry had always wondered, but it couldn't have been less interesting to him at the moment. Written on the scrap of paper in Malfoy's lazy scrawl were the words _go home or die._


	5. Chapter 5

The autumn air felt even colder than usual coming off of the lake. Steady gusts of wind, weak but constant, swept across the dark water and into the corners of Harry's jacket. He shivered and pulled the thin material tighter around his body, wishing he'd worn something thicker. He'd known the lake was big, but he hadn't thought it would take quite so long to walk completely around it.

Going over the day's events, something hadn't sat right with Harry. Malfoy had no real interest in any history of Hogwarts or its lakes. He had chosen this page specifically to leave the note in. Harry had read and reread the page but could find no clue to tell him what Malfoy wanted him to know. The only thing he could figure, was it was a meeting place, a subtle message in case someone else had happened upon the note as well. He wished Malfoy had given him a meeting time, but Harry would wait all night if he had to. He was so frustrated with Malfoy's cryptic actions and warnings that he was almost angry. Harry wanted nothing more than to grab him by the shoulders and shake him until an explanation fell out of his mouth.

Harry walked round the lake once, then sat down to wait. The cold was almost unbearable now that he wasn't moving. He tried to keep his mind on other things and not his shivering limbs, but slowly Harry's eyelids grew heavier and heavier until his head sunk onto his chest and he dozed.

Harry woke to a boot tip nudging him in the ribs. Instinctively, he went for his wand, jabbing it in the chest of a figure crouching over him.

"Relax, Potter," Malfoy said with an ounce of a sneer that disappeared almost immediately. He watched Harry lower his wand, then sat down beside him. He stared out over the lake, Harry staring at him, both in silence for a long time. Finally, impatient, tired and cold, Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out the piece of paper.

"What is this?" he said, shoving it in Malfoy's face. Malfoy opened his mouth as if to say something, but closed it and looked away. Harry's cheeks grew hot with anger.

"Fine. You win!" He crumpled the paper up into a ball and threw it in Malfoy's face. I don't _care_ anymore, have a nice life." He started to stand, but felt a cold hand clasp around his wrist.

"Sit," Malfoy said. He looked determined, but also like he might throw up. "I can't tell you much, so don't ask me for more than this." Harry paused for a moment, then sat back down.

"Go ahead." Malfoy closed his eyes, as though not looking at Harry would make it easier.

"You think you're safe here, but you're not. Not even inside the castle walls." He opened his eyes. They looked sunken and haunted. "Go home to your muggles. If you don't, you'll die. I promise you." Harry leaned back. Everything he'd ever been taught about the Malfoy family made him resist the very idea that one of them would try to help him. And this was more than just saving him from detention or being yelled at by Filch, this was saving his life.

"I don't believe you." Malfoy said nothing and Harry went on. "Why isn't the castle safe, is this about Voldemort? Why would you warn me?" Malfoy swallowed hard and turned to look out over the lake.

"Yes, it's about him," He said and a shiver traveled through his body. "The Dark Lord returns." His voice sounded far away, as though parroting words he'd heard many times, but ones that were not his own. He gazed into the lake, eyes wide but seeing nothing.

"Look, you have to tell me what's happening. I can't help you if-" Malfoy's neck snapped around.

 _"_ _I don't need your help, Potter, and I told you not to ask for anything more._ Just-" and for a moment his face turned soft. "I know how much you like to do stupid things. Play the hero and save the day and all that." He let air out of his nose in what was supposed to be a laugh. "You're an idealist. But the world doesn't always work that way." He trailed off, turning his face back to the lake.

Harry stared at Draco. He used to be handsome. Beautiful even, he could admit. Now, he was nothing but a shadow of the person Harry remembered. He had grown so pale that if Harry looked close enough, he could see the blue veins spreading out underneath the skin. He held himself differently too. There was none of the confidence or charisma that Harry had come to secretly admire. In its place, Draco seemed almost guilt-ridden.

"Look," Harry said gently. He almost wanted to take Draco's hand, though he didn't know why. "I know that your family is full of Death Eaters. You might even be one yourself, I don't know. But even if that's true, no matter what you may have done…I don't think you deserve whatever it is that's making you…like this." He gestured to Draco's body. Draco stared at him blankly.

"I'm fine," he said, his eyes betraying nothing.

"I don't understand," Harry said. "Why get me involved if you don't want me to help you?"

"Don't you get it?" Draco said, becoming suddenly angry. "It's not about me, I can take care of myself! I'm trying to help _you_. So you don't do anything stupid like get yourself _killed."_

"But why do you care?" Draco shook his head and looked away. The silence lasted so long that Harry began to think he wasn't going to answer.

"I don't…have a choice in this," Draco said with difficulty. "I wish I did, but I don't. The only thing I can do is save…the...the one person who might be able to put an end to this. But you can't do that if you're dead." He raised his eyes to meet Harry's. For the first time in months, they looked alive. "Leave Hogwarts for the holidays and don't come back."

"I won't just-"

"Do you think this is a game, Harry? _Do you think I'm lying to you?_ I can hide from them that I've told you this much, but if I reveal any more, they'll know." He ran his hands through his hair anxiously. "Leave at Christmas, you'll be safe until then, but after that... promise me you'll leave." He leaned forward and grabbed the front of Harry's shirt in both fists. _"Promise me."_ His eyes were wide again and his knuckles brushed Harry's chest through his thin shirt. He had the overwhelming urge to put his hands on Malfoy, but he didn't know how or why. _What is wrong with me?_ he thought.

"Draco, I can't. You know why I can't." Draco slowly released Harry, his face tight.

"Of course I do. That damnable sense of duty. Do yourself a favor and try to keep yourself alive," he said in a pained voice. "No one else can do it for you." And he rose to his feet, shoved his hands in his pockets, and walked back to the castle. Harry watched him as he went.


	6. Chapter 6

Two months passed. The air turned cold, classes were winding down and Quidditch was over until after the holidays. There had been two major changes to the lineups recently, one right after another. After some mysterious illness that no one knew the exact details of, Malfoy resigned from the position of seeker. He was replaced by a boy named Harper who was abysmal and ended up costing them several matches. Less than a week later, Gryffindor seeker Katie Bell was hexed while on a trip to Hogsmeade. She had been placed under the Imperious Curse and forced to act out an attempt against Dumbledore's life. Everyone had been alright, but Katie was to stay and St. Mungo's for a while and had been replaced with Dean Thomas until she was well enough to play again.

As Christmas approached, students began preparing to go home to their families for holiday. But Harry, as usual, was not going anywhere. He didn't know how seriously to take Malfoy's warning, but he would honestly rather fight all the Dark Lords in the world than spend Christmas with the Dursleys. And he couldn't even imagine not coming back. Hogwarts had been the only home he'd ever know since he was eleven, and was filled with the only people he'd ever considered family. He was offended that Malfoy had thought he would give up on all of that just to save his own skin.

After Malfoy's warning, Harry sat on the information for a few days but eventually couldn't stand not telling his best friends. As predicted, Ron was outraged.

"That son of a bitch! _That lying, dirty, cowardly-"_ His face was bright red and half of a sausage link was speared on the end of his fork, growing cold halfway to his mouth. "Who does he think he's fooling? That entire family has been trying to get rid of you from the start! I mean, his dad almost Avada Kedavra'd you in the middle of Hogwarts once." He paused to shove the link in his mouth. "Am I the only one who remembers that? _You were twelve!"_

Hermione however, took the warning very seriously. Harry had wondered how much she knew about the situation and whether or not she suspected a reason behind Malfoy's change in demeanor.

"Harry, I know he's not exactly a friend, but…" She struggled to find words. "Don't you think he's been acting strange lately? A little troubled…withdrawn? Something's definitely going on that's having a serious effect on him. All I'm saying is…maybe he's telling the truth." She looked almost guilty saying it, but Harry secretly agreed. However, he tried to play it off as some big joke that Malfoy was playing on him.

"Even if he were telling the truth, I'd never abandon Hogwarts or you all so it's useless to worry about it anyway," he said truthfully.

…

The very first day of vacation, after everyone who was going home for the holidays had already left, Harry liked to pull out the Marauder's Map and see which teachers had been chosen this year to stay behind and keep order. It was different every year and Harry always looked for Snape first, as he was the one Harry wanted there the least. With pleasure, he determined after several minutes of scanning the map that Snape was nowhere in the castle. But there was one pair of footprints that Harry had not expected to see at all. Draco Malfoy had not gone home this year like he always did, and was instead, lurking around the seventh floor corridor where the Room of Requirement was located. He paced back and forth a few times, then disappeared from the map entirely. Harry wondered what he needed the room for. He decided to wait until Malfoy left and go look around.

He didn't have to wait long. Malfoy emerged after no more than fifteen minutes and strolled down the hall and towards the staircase to take him back to the Slytherin dorms. Harry waited a few minutes, grabbed the invisibility cloak and slipped out of his room. He walked the halls quickly, looking left and right at every doorway, but it was almost midnight and he saw no one.

Harry approached the stone wall where he knew the room would appear. _I need the room you gave Draco Malfoy,_ Harry thought. Nothing happened. Harry ran his hand over the cold stones and concentrated harder. _Show me what Malfoy does in this room_. Still no sign of a door. Harry frowned. _I need the last room you provided someone._ Harry tried variations of these ideas for ten minutes, each time growing more and more frustrated when the room refused to comply. Just when Harry was beginning to think maybe he was in the wrong corridor, he heard quick footsteps echoing against the stone walls. Someone was making their way towards the Room of Requirement. Harry drew the invisibility cloak tighter around his body and pressed himself into a classroom doorway to observe. Lucius Malfoy swept down the hall, cloaks billowing, his son trailing behind him. He was speaking to Draco in a low voice, but wasn't looking at him. As they passed Harry's hiding place, he caught a few words.

"-good of you to finally decide to stop bringing _shame to your family-"_ Draco looked like he wanted to be sick, but kept up with his father and said nothing. They paused for a moment at the wall, then disappeared into the Room of Requirement through the heavy, gray door that had materialized in the stones.

Harry stood there for several minutes, thinking very rapidly about what he should do. On one hand, a Death Eater was in the castle and it wouldn't be good for Harry to be seen. On the other hand, he was almost certain he knew what to say to make the Room of Requirement show him what Draco had been up to, but it would only work while he was inside. Harry crept back to the wall and breathed deeply. _I need to see Draco Malfoy._ The same heavy, gray door appeared once more. But now what? Even though he was invisible, Harry couldn't just walk in. He pressed his ear against the door. It was thick, but he could make out muffled conversation.

"-I will keep in touch. This channel must be kept operational-" Lucius' voice grew too distorted for Harry to make out, but he gave Draco several more instructions to which he only replied "yes father." There was an apparition crack and then silence. Harry waited for what seemed like ages for the sound of any kind of movement, but he heard nothing. Had they both gone? As slowly as he could, Harry turned the knob and pushed the door open a crack.

The flicker of a fire burning in a hearth cast a golden light over the room, lengthening and distorting the shadows of a table and two chairs. Draco stood with his back to Harry. His left arm hung at his side lifelessly and the right sleeve of his dress shirt was rolled back. He was staring at his forearm. Harry could see his face in the reflection of a great, gold mirror hanging over the mantle. His expression was utterly blank. He raised his eyes to the mirror to examine his reflection but didn't seem to recognize it. He reached up to touch his own face. As he did, Harry saw the Dark Mark standing out vivid and angry against Draco's pale skin. Harry's stomach contracted. Even after all the evidence had pointed towards it, Harry had continued to hope that Draco…he wasn't…

Just then, Draco's gaze in the mirror shifted to the door, slightly ajar. His eyes narrowed, then grew wide and angry. His neck snapped around.

 _"_ _POTTER!"_ he bellowed. Harry stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over the cloak in his hurry to get away from the door. He tore down the hallway as quietly as he could, not daring to slow down even though he heard no sign of Draco following him. He only stopped when he'd reached the portrait of the Fat Lady that guarded the Gryffindor common room. She was slumped over, snoring loudly.

 _Stupid, stupid! How could I have let that happen?_ Harry berated himself. _What if he tells his father that I was spying on them?_ Harry didn't think Draco would want to do that, but he remembered the Dark Mark branded in his flesh and wasn't so sure. Harry pulled the cloak off and was just about to wake the Fat Lady, when violent hands grabbed him from behind and slammed him against the wall.

 _"_ _What. Did. You. See."_ Draco could barely contain his rage. His face was red and very close to Harry's. One hand gripped the front of his shirt and the other forearm pressed into Harry's neck, keeping him pinned to the wall and unable to breathe. Harry struggled for a moment, then reached up and yanked Draco's shirt sleeve back, exposing the tattoo.

 _"_ _That,"_ He hissed. Draco released him and shrunk back, as though in physical pain. "Draco, let me help you. I know you don't want to do this." He reached for him-

Draco shoved Harry away, so hard that the back of his head hit the stone wall and he saw stars.

 _"_ _You don't fucking know anything about me, Potter. I come from a long lineage of pureblood witches and wizards, all who have served the Dark Lord faithfully for decades. My family-"_ His voice faultered and he covered his face with both hands. But it was just for a moment and when he removed them, his expression was somber. "You have no idea of the danger you're in. You should have left when you had the choice."

"I could say the same thing to you." Draco grabbed Harry round the throat and pulled his face close.

"When I had the choice? _I never had a choice."_ His face was inches away, pained and worn, but still held a trace of the beauty it once had. Harry's skin burned where Draco's hand gripped the back of his neck. "I don't have a choice about…a lot of things…" His face went soft. Harry could feel Draco's hot breath against his skin, but realized he wasn't breathing himself. They were already almost nose to nose. _No, no, no, no, no, no, no,_ Harry thought, but he felt himself leaning forward. Softly, he dragged his lips across Draco's. He hovered there for a moment, lingering on Draco's upper lip, so close he could feel the heat from their individual bodies mingling in the space between. Then he pulled away and they stared at each other. Draco looked bewildered at first, then furious. He gripped Harry's neck tighter and Harry thought for a second he might try to kill him but the next sensation he felt was Draco's mouth on his, hard and angry. His back pressed against the wall, Harry felt his hands slide up the length of Draco's chest and grip his shirt tightly, pulling him closer. Their mouths twisted violently against each other's until Harry tasted blood and he didn't know whose. He felt lightheaded. After a minute that seemed like ten, they broke apart, breathing heavily, still gripping each other's clothes. Harry had no idea what he was feeling. He pushed Draco backwards and moved away from the wall.

"I'm not going anywhere, Malfoy," Harry said. "I don't want to hurt you, but I won't let you keep me from finding out what's going on. Voldemort has to die. And so do his followers. But I don't want…I mean…" he struggled to find adequate words. "Don't be one of them. You're _not_ one of them. I can tell by looking at your face that you're not." Draco's face was contorted into a mask of pain. He shook his head.

"You should know better than anyone what it means to have a sense of duty, Potter." He held Harry's gaze for a moment, then turned and walked away. Harry stood, staring, wondering what type of person Draco was and what type of person he, himself, was as well. He slowly turned towards the portrait where the Fat Lady was watching with a sly smile on her face.

"Fuddy duddy," Harry said, going red in the face.

"Oh, don't worry dear, I'm not going to tell anyone," she said as she swung aside. "Though it's a very good thing for you that I don't have much of a stomach for gossip…"


	7. Chapter 7

After their last meeting, Harry wasn't sure whether he was desperate to get Draco's attention, or desperate to avoid him altogether. It seemed to change from day to day. And no matter his efforts, Draco wouldn't let Harry get too close, but he refused to let him forget either. At one point Harry hadn't seen Draco for several months but now, he ran into him nearly every day. They never spoke, but it kept Draco firmly in Harry's mind when all he wanted to do was forget about him. He tried never to allow himself time to think about that night, but when he didn't have much to fill his time and when he saw Draco's face nearly every day, it was difficult. Just what Harry was feeling, he didn't know and he wasn't prepared to consider the implications of his actions. He'd never been attracted to a man before. Sure, he could look at a guy and see that he was fit, but that didn't mean he wanted to kiss him. Girls on the other hand…well, there was no way Harry was gay. He liked women a lot. Still, there was no denying that he had kissed Draco first. And that since the incident, he had thought of doing it again. It made him uncomfortable. Harry decided that what he wanted most was to forget about it completely. No more looking for Draco (or avoiding him either), he was just going to pretend it never happened.

However, he wasn't planning on forgetting about the Room of Requirement. Harry kept one eye on the Marauder's Map at all times, but he never saw Malfoy there again. There was a change in Malfoy as well. Whenever Harry caught a glimpse of him, he looked a little better. Less fragile and with a bit more color on his cheeks. Harry thought maybe, if his involvement with the Death Eaters had been the cause of his distress, this slight recovery might mean they weren't asking so much of him right now. Or maybe, Harry even hoped, that Draco had cut ties with them completely.

School began again and Harry tried to pretend that things were the same as before. Ron and Hermione were back and Harry struggled with how much to tell them about what happened over holiday. He settled on the minimum.

"Malfoy's been using the Room of Requirement for something," he said one night before bed.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

"I saw him hanging around it on the map, so I followed him." He spent a few minutes recounting the story in detail, but leaving it at his escape.

"Lucius Malfoy was here?" Ron said.

"You're sure he disapparated?" Hermione frowned. "The whole castle has an anti-apparition charm on it; he shouldn't be able to do that."

"Well, he did," Harry said. "Maybe the Room of Requirement isn't affected by the charm. Maybe it works differently."

"If that's true, anyone can secretly get inside the castle. All they have to do is know about the Room of Requirement."

"And now Lucius Malfoy knows…" said Ron in dismay.

"That's what he's doing. He's using the Room of Requirement as a passageway to let Death Eaters into the castle." Her face was pale. "Oh Harry, he was telling the truth! I don't know why but he really _was_ trying to warn you. You're not safe here. We should warn Dumbledore-"

"Look, nothing's happened to me yet. I haven't even caught Malfoy down there in weeks."

"Weeks?" asked Ron. "When did this happen?" Harry shifted in his seat.

"The beginning of the holiday."

 _"_ _Harry…"_ Hermione said. She sounded almost like she was scolding a misbehaving child. "And you didn't tell us right away?"

"I didn't want to ruin your breaks! Anyway, nothing's happened yet and I'm not going anywhere." He sat sullenly, refusing to answer any more questions about that night. He didn't want to think about it anymore.

…

Breakfast the next day was unpleasant. Hermione was still angry with Harry for not telling her sooner and refusing to take her advice. Ron kept trying to offer solutions while avoiding Hermione's furious eyes.

"Maybe Dumbledore could shut down the Room of Requirement if we told him about it," Ron whispered to Harry.

"He can't," Harry said shortly.

"How do you know?"

"I just do. Besides, we have no proof of how Malfoy's using it anyway." Harry refused to admit to himself that his decisions were biased because Draco was involved, but every time he considered going to the headmaster, Harry thought of him. If the passageway were closed, the Death Eaters would know Draco had failed and that would put him in danger. Harry would avoid that at all costs.

Classes were slow. For Herbology, Harry and Ron were each other's partners because they would rather risk a brush from their Venomous Tentacula's sharp barbs than endure her angry silence. The class was with Slytherin and several times Harry found himself looking around for a familiar blonde head, but Draco didn't seem to be present.

By lunchtime, Hermione was speaking to them again, but snappishly.

"Honestly, you two," she said when they kept sneaking glances at her from the corners of their eyes. "Stop looking at me like that! You're driving me absolutely crazy."

"Hey, Katie's back," said Ron. Hermione looked irritated, but turned in the direction he was pointing.

"She looks a lot better." Katie was a pretty Gryffindor in year seven. Other than looking a little thinner than Harry remembered, he agreed.

"I'll be back," Harry said. He needed to know the answer to a question, but he was dreading asking it. Katie was standing with a group of girls and they parted on either side when he approached them. Before he could say a word, she smiled.

"I know what you're about to ask Harry. Everyone has been. But I don't know who hexed me. I wish I did, it was the most pain I've ever experienced in my life. But all I remember is going into the bathroom at the Three Broomsticks and coming out with the package. And I just had to give it to Professor Dumbledore." She shook her head. "I'm lucky to be alive.

"I-I'm sorry," Harry said, feeling horrible. "It's good to have you back." She smiled, but her eyes passed over Harry and landed on something behind him. He turned to look. Draco was standing in the middle isle of the Great Hall, his gaze fixed on Harry. As soon as their eyes met, he turned on his heel and walked swiftly out of the room. Harry's heart dropped into his stomach. As quickly as he could without running, he followed Draco out of the Great Hall and into the corridors. Their shoes clicked on the stone floor and Draco walked faster and faster. He sprinted the last few feet to a bathroom and ducked inside. Harry followed. It seemed empty and the drip from a faucet echoed against the high ceiling. Against the far wall was a row of sinks and mirrors. Draco was leaning over one and looking in the mirror, his hands on either side of the basin as though he didn't trust his own feet to keep him standing. He saw Harry.

"Draco-" Draco whirled around, his wand in his clenched fist.

 _"_ _Stupify!"_ A bolt of red light shot from the tip which Harry blocked, but when he recovered, Draco had run.

"Draco, stop! Talk to me!" He ran after him, wand drawn, through the rows of stalls. Draco had turned into one of them, but which? As Harry passed one, a bolt of white light shot out. When Harry blocked that too, Draco took a swing at him and disappeared into the showers. Harry followed, positioning himself in the only exit. Draco backed away, wand pointed at Harry's chest, face pale and lips thin. Harry tossed his wand to the ground.

"I'm not going to fight you." Draco lowered his wand shakily.

"What do you want, Potter? To judge me?" His voice was high and desperate. _"Perfect Potter,_ you're always better than everyone, aren't you?" He pointed his wand at Harry's chest again. _"Well if I'm so miserable, why don't you just finish me off?"_ Harry raised both hands and walked towards him.

"Draco, please…" Draco jerked his wand towards Harry's.

"Go on. Pick it up."

"No." Harry crossed to Draco and put a hand on his raised arm. It dropped to his side and the wand clattered to the tile below. "Draco…" He'd wanted to yell and scream at him, ask him how he couldn't know that what he was doing was so wrong, but now that he had the chance, Harry could see that he did know. Draco was still angry, but his eyes were hollow and seemed halfway to tears.

"Don't look at me like that. You don't know what I'm capable of! _What I've done!"_ Harry's hand, which was still on Draco's arm, moved to his shoulder.

"You're right. But I know that whatever you did, you didn't want to do it."

"You don't know," he said with pleading eyes. "You have no idea. Maybe I'm evil." But the fight had gone out of him. Harry brushed a strand of white hair back into place before he could stop himself.

"I don't think so," he said with confidence. The harsh lines around Draco's eyes and mouth smoothed a little. There was a moment of hesitation, then he leaned into Harry.

This kiss was nothing like the first one. Draco's body was gentle and unhurried. Their mouths pressed softly together with none of the anger or frustration of before, only the quiet understanding of two people comforting one another. Harry parted his lips slightly and the tip of Draco's tongue skimmed against his own. Shivers ran down his body but he wasn't cold- on the contrary, everything felt like he was on fire. _Why does this keep happening to me?_ Harry grabbed Draco's face and pulled away.

"I'm-I'm not gay," he stammered, stupidly. Draco raised an eyebrow.

"You have an odd way of showing it."

"I mean…I like girls."

"Well, we all have our flaws."

"But you are? Gay I mean?" Draco rolled his eyes.

"What do you think?" Harry flushed a little and Draco's face softened. "Yes, I am. It's something about myself that I came to terms with a long time ago. But what I couldn't come to terms with was…who I…had those feelings for." Now Draco looked embarrassed. "For years I hated myself for it. And, to a certain extent, you."

Harry's head swam. Everything was happening too fast. He felt like he might need to sit down.

"Sorry. Forget I said anything at all." Draco's face was hard again. "It doesn't matter anyway because you need to stay away from me." Harry frowned. "Stay away from the Room of Requirement, just don't go looking-"

"I'm not going to do that. I told you I _will_ figure out what's going on and I'm not going to let you stop me. No-no matter what." He faltered as Draco's fingers reached out and skimmed the back of his hand. His face was scrutinizing.

"Where do you get off being so good?"

"I just have a conscience is all." Draco's eyes looked far away.

"I don't."

"Then let me be yours." Draco met Harry's gaze and for the first time in ages, his face looked peaceful.

"And I'm not going to forget what you said. Because…I don't want to," Harry said. Draco searched his face for a moment, then raised his hand and ran the back of two fingers over Harry's cheek. He leaned in and rested a brief kiss on his lips. When he pulled away, his expression was completely blank.

"The situation is beyond both of us. Stay out of this and stay away from me. Please." Chest tight, Harry watching Draco pick up his wand and walk away without looking back.


	8. Chapter 8

For the next few weeks, Harry didn't even try to stop himself from thinking about Draco. Even though he was clearly trying to stay out of Harry's way, every time he saw Draco his heart stopped for a moment. It would have been bad enough if all he had to think about were his feelings for Draco, but he also couldn't keep the image of him hexing Katie Bell out of his mind. Of Draco performing an Unforgivable Curse. And the look of shame and bitterness on his face when he realized that Harry knew. The memory of that expression haunted him.

Draco had spoken to Harry once since the bathroom incident. Harry was in the library researching History of Magic topics when Draco was suddenly beside him.

"You need to leave." He looked ghost white and his eyes kept flickering back and forth, as though someone might pounce on the two of them at any moment.

"Stop telling me to do that," Harry said, almost annoyed. "I'm not going to." He took a closer look at Draco's face. There were circles under his eyes again. "What's wrong, tell me." Draco shook his head.

"Something is about to happen. And you can't-"

"What's about to happen? Are the Death Eaters coming?" Draco looked furious, but he continued.

"-you can't do anything about it. All you can do is get hurt or killed."

"I'm not going to leave."

 _"_ _Don't you trust me at all?"_ Harry sighed.

"Yes, I do. But you don't understand. I'll die if I have to, but I'm not going to run away from danger. My duty is to this school, to these people," he said, reshelving a book. "If Voldemort wants me so bad, he knows where to find me."

"Harry, please," Draco begged. "Don't be fucking stupid."

"I love doing stupid things, remember?" Draco's nostrils flared, obviously annoyed at Harry for using his own words against him.

"You're impossible. We shouldn't have even talked this long. It's a risk. "

"I'll be fine, Draco."

"Yeah, whatever," Draco muttered and walked away, but he brushed Harry's hand with his own as he went.

Harry almost wished Draco hadn't warned him. He had plenty to worry about already. Besides classes and Quidditch, Dumbledore had begun regular meetings with Harry to help better prepare him for what could be the outcome of his prophecy. They used Dumbledore's pensive to delve into the memories of Voldemort's victims, in hopes of learning more about his past. They did learn of several items that Voldemort may have later turned into Horcruxes, but found nothing about where they might be hidden now. However, Harry noted that Dumbledore was spending an exorbitant amount of time away from the school. He suspected the reason was to seek out the location of the four remaining Horcruxes but he hadn't yet asked the headmaster about it.

Once he had tried to tell Dumbledore about the Room of Requirement without implicating Draco.

"You believe that someone is using the Room of Requirement as a passageway by which Death Eaters have been gaining access to Hogwarts, unbeknownst to myself or any other teachers?" It sounded so ridiculous when he said it like that.

"Well, I- yes. I've seen it. A student and a Death Eater walked in and only the student walked out," Harry said with conviction. Dumbledore looked at him somberly over the rims of his spectacles.

"Oh? Who were this student and Death Eater?" Harry shifted uneasily. He couldn't tell him the Death Eater was Lucius because then he would surely guess the student was his son.

"I can't…I guess I don't want to accuse anyone until I'm completely sure," he said slowly. Dumbledore nodded his head but looked as though he had guessed their identities anyway.

"A wise decision, Harry," said Dumbledore. And they never spoke of it again.

…

As weeks passed, two things became clear to Harry. The first being that whatever Draco had tried to warn Harry about was rapidly approaching. He had reverted back to his sickly appearance almost completely, never looking like he slept anymore and he was late to class often. The second thing was that Harry was sure that Dumbledore had discovered the location of a Horcrux, or at least had some suspicion of it. He had been away from the castle for several days in a row which was longer than he'd ever been before, and when he returned, he had asked Harry to see him straight away. When Harry arrived, Dumbledore was straightening the stacks of papers entangled on his desk.

"Are you ready, Harry?"

"Ready sir?"

"Well, I did promise you could come with me, didn't I?" he said calmly. Harry's eyes widened.

"You've found another horcrux." Dumbledore smiled, but his face was grim.

"Go fetch your cloak and meet me in the entrance hall in five minutes," he said, shoving the papers into a drawer and throwing his own long cloak over one arm. "Quickly now. I daresay we'll be in need of a little stealth tonight." Harry tore out of the office and down to his bedroom without another hesitation. He grabbed the cloak from his trunk and wadded it up into a ball, dashing down the long staircases to the entrance hall below.

…

An hour later, Harry and Dumbledore were flying as quickly as possible back towards the Hogwart's Astronomy Tower, the Dark Mark hanging low and sinister over its black ramparts.


	9. Chapter 9

Dumbledore reached the ramparts first, quickly dismounting with Harry close behind him. They looked around. The tower was completely deserted and there was no sign of any disturbance but still the Dark Mark, with its ever watchful eyes, hovered above.

"They're here, Professor. Death Eaters. Do you think someone's really…dead?" Dumbledore did not answer his question. He was leaning heavily against the stone wall and breathing loudly.

"Find Severus. Bring him to me as quickly as possible and keep your cloak on." Harry hesitated, loathe to leave him alone in his weakened state. _"Go Harry."_ The urgent tone of his voice jerked Harry alive. He rushed to the door towards the spiral staircase but as he reached it, footsteps sounded on the other side. Harry jerked back, pressing his body against the cold tower wall, as the door swung open.

 _"_ _Expelliarmus,"_ a voice commanded and instantly Harry was frozen in his spot. He couldn't even move his jaw to speak. _Expelliarmus isn't a freezing charm,_ he thought confusedly. But he registered the sound of a wand clattering to the floor and saw Dumbledore standing alone and empty handed. He had wordlessly frozen Harry under the invisibility cloak and simultaneously sacrificed his last chance for self defense. The intruder bowed to pick up Dumbledore's wand and drew closer to the light to face the professor. A flash of golden hair told Harry everything he needed to know.

Draco circled the headmaster, an expression of gloating on his face that was discernible as false only to Harry. Dumbledore however, didn't look perturbed in the least.

"Good evening, Draco," he said calmly.

"Where's Harry?" said Draco, his voice steely. "I know he was with you."

"He is gone," said Dumbledore, waving a hand towards the seemingly empty tower. "As you can see."

"Where? Where did you send him?"

"Away. He is out of your reach tonight." Draco's face relaxed into a perfectly blank expression but his hand began to shake on the wand. "You needn't be afraid, Draco. I'm sure you've done exactly what they asked of you." Draco's face lost its passiveness and contorted into one of rage. Harry thought he looked almost insane.

 _"_ _I'm not afraid,"_ he screamed. _"It's YOU who should be afraid!"_

"Why? I don't think you are going to kill me. Oh, you may hold me here until your friends arrive and so actively contribute to my demise, but you won't point the wand yourself. Murder is much easier to promise than it is to carry out." Draco, still shaking, said nothing. "So while we're waiting for your companions to arrive, why don't you tell me how you did it?"

"I did it," said Draco, panting. "I did it right under everyone's nose. You never suspected." He was staring not at Dumbledore, but at some far off point just to the left of his head. Into empty space.

"Did you now?"

"I used the Room of Requirement," Draco said. He didn't seem to even hear the headmaster's words. "And a pair of vanishing cabinets from…from Borgin and Burkes." He was breathing heavily now.

"Very clever." Dumbledore's face remained placid.

"I placed Madame Rosemerta under the Imperious Curse. I had her slip Katie Bell the necklace in the girl's room at the Three Broomsticks." His words were no longer a taunt, they were a confession. "I've been trying to kill you. All year." Under the invisibility cloak, his words were like fire in Harry's ears. He tried to block them out, to pretend they were just sounds and he didn't understand their meaning, but he couldn't. Draco went on.

"Snape betrayed you." Harry's stomach dropped to his feet but Dumbledore said nothing. "He wants you dead. He's one of the Death Eaters here tonight." Draco was no longer angry or shaking. Instead, he was a robot. A rigid, expressionless machine, made only to stand in one place and tell the truth whether it was asked of him or not. Harry couldn't bare it.

"You won't kill me, Draco," Dumbledore said gently.

"Yes, I will."

"No, you won't."

"Yes, I will." But there was no fight in Draco's voice.

"Draco, it's not too late. You've harmed no one. Put your wand down now. I can help you."

"No one can help me." His voice was completely hollow. "I don't have a choice."

"There is always a choice, my boy." There was no discernible change in Draco's face, but his body sagged in defeat. His shoulders relaxed and his arm began to slowly lower his wand when-

The door to the Astronomy Tower burst open and four Death Eaters in mussed robed filed in. Harry's heart sank as he thought about what that meant for the outcome of the battle below. Bellatrix LeStrange waltzed over to Dumbledore, accompanied by two men whom Harry didn't recognize and one who must have been Fenrir Greyback. He was extraordinarily hairy and dirty, with long whiskers protruding from his cheeks. He smelled of sweat and blood that probably wasn't his own.

"Dumbledore disarmed and cornered! Well done, well done Draco!" one of the men said shrilly. Draco was frozen in place, as frozen as Harry was. They continued to marvel over the fine job for a few more moments, to relish in Dumbledore's capture, when a sound of scuffling from below reminded them of their present situation.

"Go ahead, Draco," Bellatrix purred. _"Finish him."_ Draco didn't move. The other Death Eaters tensed and looked at each other.

"You have your orders, boy," said the other man coldly. "You must carry them out. Kill him now!" Still Draco didn't move. His eyes were wide but they didn't seem afraid, only empty and far away. Fenrir Greyback, who up until that point had been apart from the conversation eyeing Dumbledore, raised his head.

"You'll hurry up and kill him if you know what's good for you," he sneered.

"No," Draco slowly lowered his wand. Greyback's eyes narrowed. He approached Draco slowly until he was almost chest to chest with him, towering over the boy by at least 8 inches.

"What did-"

"I said no," said Draco, letting Dumbledore's wand fall from his other hand with a clatter.

The tower was eerily silent. Suddenly, footsteps sounded on the stairs and a moment later, Snape flung open the door.

"Severus, we have a problem," the second man said. "The boy seems incapable or… _unwilling_ to perform his task." Snape smirked and pushed past Draco.

"Suddenly grown a conscience, have you? Then get out of my way." He raised his wand-

A bolt of red light shot from Draco's wand and hit Snape in the back. He fell to the ground, stupefied. Bellatrix screamed and leapt for Draco, shooting white light at him, which he blocked.

 _"_ _Cru-"_ But before she could finish the unforgivable curse, Draco turned and disapparated with a crack. Slowly, Snape struggled to his feet.

 _"_ _Find him,"_ he hissed. "He's somewhere in the castle. Find him!" The three remaining Death Eaters flew from the tower and tore down the steps. Snape turned to Dumbledore. Harry screamed wordlessly.

"Severus, please."

 _"_ _Avada Kedavra."_


	10. Chapter 10

Harry lay in bed staring at the ceiling, thinking of nothing. He should be thinking about Dumbledore's death or whether or not Draco was safe or what would happen next, but he wasn't. He could think of nothing at all. It was as though his brain were a record with the needle caught on a deep scratch. He would try to replay the events in his head, but couldn't. Sometimes he could hardly remember what had happened at all.

It was two days after Dumbledore's death. Most of the student body had gone home. Some hadn't wanted to but were forced by their parents, which no one could blame them for. A handful had absolutely refused to leave until after the funeral, which was to take place the following day. Ron and Hermione were in the common room, talking in dark whispers with the other Gryffindors who had stayed. Harry, however, had wanted to be alone. He wanted to lay in complete darkness and think of nothing. He knew he would have to act soon. To leave Hogwarts, maybe forever, and set out by himself to find the remaining horcruxes. But he had at least 24 more precious hours before that would have to be done. In those remaining 24 hours, he would think of nothing. It was only 8 o'clock, but Harry drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

He was awoken by the latch on his window snapping up. The room was even darker than it had been an hour earlier and the stars outside were obscured by clouds. A figure lifted the window pane slowly, quietly trying not to wake anyone. Harry looked around and saw he was still alone. He raised his wand and pointed it at the figure.

"Don't move or I'll kill you." The figure slowly turned.

"Harry." Draco's voice was hoarse, as though he'd been screaming. For a moment, neither one of them moved. Then Harry dropped his wand and grabbed Draco, pulling him into his chest. A sob ripped from Draco's throat. Harry locked both arms tightly around him, desperately trying to suppress the violent tremors that shook his body, but they wouldn't lessen. Harry guided Draco to the bed, pulling the blanket over both of them and silently held him in the dark, letting his tears drench Harry's shirt and pillow. After a while, his sobs lessened and his breathing became slow and steady. He didn't speak and Harry thought maybe he'd fallen asleep so he stole a glance at him. His face was ghostly in the moonlight and there were two shimmering trails on his cheeks from where tears had run. His eyes were open, haunted, sightlessly gazing into the darkness ahead.

"They killed him anyway." Draco's voice was hollow. "He told me it wasn't too late, but it was. Nothing I did mattered."

"It mattered."

"I didn't save him," Draco said bitterly. "I didn't save anyone. How could it have mattered?"

"You saved yourself."

"If that's true, then why do I feel like dying?" Harry didn't have an answer. If he did, he might have known why he felt the same way. He pushed the hair from Draco's forehead and pressed his lips to the warm skin.

"Sleep here tonight."

"I can't."

"Ron and Neville are the only ones who'll see you're here. And I don't give a fuck what they think, I really don't."

"It's not that." Draco fell silent, measuring his words carefully for several minutes. "I…have to leave tonight. I'm being relocated for my own safety. It's part of my agreement with the Ministry to divulge the names of all the Death Eaters I know of." Harry's throat felt incredibly dry.

"You're giving them names? _They'll try to kill you._ You've painted a target on your back, you'll-"

"They'll try to kill me anyway," Draco said. "But I can't just do nothing, not anymore. I know it can never make up for the damage I've already done, but it'll ease my conscience a bit." He smiled weakly. "Hey, I guess I have one now." It was several minutes before Harry spoke.

"Where are they sending you?"

"I don't know yet. Far away. To another country." Harry said nothing and Draco continued. "I'll have to change my identity. I can't have contact with anyone who knows who I really am. And…I don't know if I'll ever be able to come back." There was only silence for a long time. Finally, Harry found his voice.

"That's…good. You'll be safe this way. Your life is in danger as long as you stay here."

"But I want to stay here."

"But you can't." Harry didn't know what else to say. He hated himself for the hollow feeling in his chest, like his heart had been removed. He had no right to feel like that. Draco was still for a moment, then reached up to pull Harry's face down to his. Their lips met in the dark.

"I don't want to go," he whispered into Harry's open mouth. Harry pressed his forehead against Draco's.

"I don't want you to go." He bent to kiss him again, but more urgently this time. He could taste Draco's tongue and feel his arm wrap around the back of his neck. He ran his hands down from Draco's face, to his shoulders, to his chest, fingertips grazing over the lean muscle and sharp edges underneath the thin shirt. He knew it was an inappropriate moment to be feeling the way he did, but Harry didn't care. It distracted his mind from the silent, unbearable goodbye that was passing between the two of them. He slipped a hand underneath the shirt. Draco's skin was hot to the touch, but raised with goosebumps. Draco leaned forward and pulled the shirt over his head, then did the same with Harry's. Simply lying there, bare chests pressed together, felt better than Harry could have imagined. He could feel Draco's heartbeat through his chest, increasing as his own did, as Draco's hands strayed from Harry's torso to his jean line, to the erection that Harry hadn't even noticed he had. Draco's fingers traced the material lazily, then found the head of his cock beneath the jeans. Harry sucked air through his teeth. He felt lightheaded. Softly at first, then more firmly, Draco pressed against Harry with his own bulge, grinding ever so slightly. Both were breathing very loudly now and Harry briefly wondered what would happen if someone were to walk in at this moment, but knew he didn't care. He pushed Draco flat onto his back and yanked his pants to his knees, revealing his fully erect cock. Losing all reservations about what was happening, he took him in his mouth, reveling in the groan that escaped Draco's lips. He pulled back a bit, letting his tongue flick up and down its length and along the tip. Draco was holding his breath now, not trusting the volume of his voice if he made any noise at all. Harry went deeper, moving his head up and down, working the rest of the shaft with his hand.

 _"_ _Fuck. Oh shit…"_ Draco was gasping, one hand gripping Harry's hair, one entangled in the sheets. Suddenly, he grabbed Harry's face and pulled it close to his. _"Fuck me. Right now."_ He pulled at Harry's jeans impatiently and Harry obliged. Draco knelt and took him in his mouth, getting him very wet before flipping over on his hands and knees in front of Harry. Harry let the tip of his cock rest against Draco for a moment, watching the muscles in his back twitch with anticipation, before slowly leaning forward, pushing into him a few inches. Draco gasped. Harry grabbed his hips roughly and pushed in further, then began to move back and forth, a quick but steady rhythm gently swaying the bed. Harry's head was in a fog, his body was on fire. He thrust inside completely and Draco let out an ungodly moan that Harry was sure would be heard in the common room. He clapped his hand over Draco's mouth.

 _"_ _Be quiet,"_ he hissed. But Draco took two of his fingers in his mouth, gently sucking and Harry couldn't help but let out a moan as well.

 _"_ _Be quiet,"_ Draco mocked, smirking. Harry could see that Draco was working his own cock with long strokes. Harry grabbed him roughly by the shoulders and began to lean into him, thrusting harder and faster. Draco put his head down on the bed and worked himself faster and faster as well, matching Harry's pace.

 _"_ _Fuck…Harry…"_

 _"_ _I'm close,"_ Harry panted. _"I'm gonna…"_

 _"_ _Do it. I want you to cum. Oh fuck…"_ Grabbing Draco by the hair, he pumped harder and harder, letting out a stifled groan as he came, Draco exploding just a few moments after. He sank to the bed and Harry collapsed beside him, both panting heavily. They laid there for several minutes, catching their breath, letting their heartbeats return to normal. Harry reached up and pushed the damp hair from the back of Draco's neck. Draco turned his head to look at him. He smiled but his eyes were sad.

"I wasted so much time being without you."

"Me too."

They lay next to each other in the darkness for a long time, saying nothing. The only movement was of Harry's fingertips, tracing lines and circles into Draco's flesh, disturubing the thin sheen of perspiration collected on his back.

Finally, Draco sat up and pulled on his clothes. Harry watched him in silence. He wanted to beg him not to go, to say or do anything that would make him stay, if only for the night. But he knew it was selfish. Instead he watched helplessly as Draco dressed and rose to leave. He paused for a moment by the bed, his body silhouetted in the moonlight, and Harry reached for him. He threaded his fingers through Draco's, holding his hand, holding him, for one moment longer, in that room. Then he rose slowly, took Draco's face in his hands, and pressed their lips together. Draco pressed back, hard and brief, then pulled away. Everything Harry wanted to say would make things more painful, so he said nothing at all as he watching Draco walk to the window and disappear out of it. Mechanically, Harry returned to his bed. He knew that later he would be angry. Later he would rage at all the things he should have said, at all the useless years he lost to his pride when he could have spent them being happy. But right now he couldn't be angry, not even with himself, because he was able to think of nothing but Draco's face. Nothing but the feeling of their intermingled heartbeats. He lay down in the darkness and stared at the ceiling, reflecting on this, the only memento that he could keep. A single memory where Draco had been his. When, briefly, the two of them had belonged together.


	11. Epilogue

19 Years Later

"I won't be in Slytherin! _I won't!"_ Albus declared loudly.

"James, stop upsetting your brother," said Ginny in a weary voice. The Potters were standing in the middle of a bustling crowd of witches and wizards, all giving out last minute hugs and kisses as students prepared to board the Hogwarts Express. It was nearly 11 o'clock on September the 1st.

"Now, be good Al," said Ginny as she fussed with his robes. "Remember to write. Don't duel with anyone until you've learned how-"

"Don't mess with Peeves," called Harry over her shoulder.

"-and don't let James talk you into doing anything you shouldn't." She gave the older boy a pointed look, who was doing his best to appear innocent.

"But what if I'm in Slytherin?" Albus asked, turning back to his father. Harry sighed and knelt until they were face to face.

"Albus Draco," His voice was quiet enough that only his son could hear. "You were named for two people who changed my life. One of them was a Slytherin. And…he was probably the bravest man I ever knew."

A train whistle sounded throughout the station, nearly deafening them. Students were all piling into the cars now, some hanging out of the windows to yell final goodbyes to family.

 _"_ _Albus!_ Hurry or you'll be late!" called Ginny. Albus ran to the car and jumped in, planting one last kiss on his mother's cheek before closing the door. As the train gave its final, loud whistle and lurched forward out of the station, Ginny leaned her head against Harry's shoulder.

"This brings back so many memories. Doesn't it?" As the train passed and the smoke cleared, Harry saw a figure standing on the other side of the tracks, staring after the express. A man, thin and pale with blonde, receding hair and a pointed chin. He held a child's coat in his arms. Harry stared for a few moments longer, then took Ginny's hand.

"Yes, it does."


End file.
